The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer’s farce is almost done. My son is home.

He understood the way that you could sometimes fall right into them, as if each page was a hole into another world.

If he must be alone, he would make solitude his armor.

We were talking about the prince,' Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little fat one. Naturally.

Choosing... it has always hurt. And always will. I know.

When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it

Spikes, " he sighed. "Heads. Walls.